Striker of The Gods

Tension coiled inescapable now, purposeful in its slow, torturous build: his rough fingers trailed featherlight up her inner thighs, parting trembling flesh to tease the slick heat gathering at her core, calluses grazing sensitive skin till she whimpered. He circled her swollen pearl with maddening precision, light flicks, then firmer presses, watching her hips buck involuntarily

—Ohh... por favor, Caos, deeper... no me hagas esperar más... no crude rush to penetration, but total immersion in sensation, the bed’s finest linens whispering silkily under her writhing form, bunching beneath her ass. Kneeling between her spread legs, his breath ghosted hot against her glistening folds, the scent of her arousal mingling with jasmine to intoxicate.

His tongue delved in long, languid laps from entrance to clit, savoring her tangy sweetness like forbidden nectar, lips sealing around her pearl to suck with rhythmic, insistent pulses that matched her quickening heartbeat, two fingers curling inside to stroke that ridged inner wall. Leonor’s hands fisted his dark waves, back arching off the mattress as waves crested relentlessly

—Ahhh! Caos, tu boca... me deshace por completo, ¡no pares! (her first release shuddering through her core, thighs clamping vise-like around his head, nectar flooding his tongue in realistic, pulsing gushes, not tidy fountains but messy, quivering spills that soaked the sheets and dripped down his chin.)

Rising with a predatory gleam, he claimed her mouth anew in a searing kiss, sharing her own taste on his lips

—Siente tu esencia en mí, amor mío, dulce como Victoria their eyes locking in profound revelation: her royal facade fully crumbled to bare, quivering soul; his ancient chaotic isolation yielding at last to this anchored, human love. He stripped his breeches then, cock springing free, thick as her wrist, veined prominently, throbbing with restrained multiversal fire that made the air shimmer faintly purple.

Nudging her entrance, the broad, flared head parted slick lips with a deliberate, circling grind, coating himself in her renewed wetness.

 —Mírame siempre, he commanded softly, voice gravel-rough with need, thrusting forward in a slow, purposeful invasion, inch by stretching inch breaching her tightness, her walls yielding with obscene wet schlick-schlick, inner muscles fluttering greedily around him like heated velvet fists clenching in welcome

—¡AHHH! Tan lleno... mi Caos, me partes en dos, ¡más profundo! she cried out, nails raking bloody trails down his shoulders that healed instantly in flickering purple light. Rhythm ignited primal: starting with shallow, teasing pumps that made her whine, building to deep, grinding rolls thrust-thrust-grind, his hips snapping forward with epic, controlled power, heavy balls slapping rhythmically against her ass in fleshy, echoing applause, each purposeful plunge stirring her depths to froth, the bulbous head battering that electric inner spot that arched her spine like a bowstring and tore gasps from her throat.